Fear Familiar Bundle

by Caroline Burnes

  After scrounging around for several minutes she held up a package of fish. "Will tuna suffice?"

  Familiar nodded again.

  "Good, then your menu is planned, so drink your milk." Sarah nudged it over to the cat with her toe. "Now I have to figure out how to make the telephone work. Either that or we're going to have to drive into town and report it. Lucky we know that the phone company keeps crews working night and day. They should be able to get out here and get this fixed."

  Sarah realized she was talking a blue streak to the cat. She shut her mouth with a firm clamp and poured a cup of coffee. She was getting as dotty as a bat in the blazing sun.

  "How about a cup of that?"

  She turned to find Daniel standing in the doorway, his face still sleepy and a question in his eyes. "I need some caffeine."

  "Coming right up." She poured another cup and handed it to him, letting her fingers brush his, a whisper of affection and desire. She was taken aback by the rush of emotions she felt for Daniel, and the flush of confusion. No man had ever affected her in such a way, and it was almost as disconcerting as it was exciting. She sought something to say that wouldn't reveal her turbulent emotions. "The phone is dead."

  Daniel's expression froze. He picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. "Deader than a doornail, as we used to say as kids." He kept his face bland, but his voice registered his concern.

  "What?"

  "I don't believe in coincidences. The storm might have knocked the phone out, but it's strange that we also had a visitor."

  "I see." Sarah hadn't connected the two events. Maybe it was more than wind that had knocked out the phone.

  "I'll check." Daniel took his coffee and went to find his boots. "Be back in a minute," he called as he slammed the front door.

  Tempted to follow him, Sarah went through the refrigerator for breakfast food instead. She had to steady herself, to give Daniel a chance to show what he was feeling for her.

  She forced her thoughts back in line with breakfast. Uncle Vince kept the place stocked like a palace. Sighing as she counted up the fat grams, she pulled out bacon, eggs, a cloth sack of hand-ground grits, butter, and the makings for biscuits. It was only on rare occasions that she indulged in a traditional Southern breakfast, but the hours of the night she'd spent in Daniel's arms counted as a very special occasion indeed.

  Daniel had to work his way around to his own feelings on the matter, but she felt wonderful. It was almost as if some stranglehold on her emotions had been broken. She'd protected herself against feeling anything for so long, but now she was free. Free to experience all of the pleasure Daniel gave so readily. And, perhaps, the pain that came with it. There were no guarantees in relationships; she knew that. She'd been afraid of losing someone for so long that now the sudden freedom was…exhilarating.

  Daniel made his way around the house, stopping at the window that looked in on the kitchen. The black cat was sitting on the floor, watching every move that Sarah made. And Sarah…He smiled at the sight of her. She was luminous this morning. When he'd first awakened, he'd had a stab of concern that she might wish the night had never happened. But one look and he knew that she had no regrets. The question he confronted now was, what were her expectations? And what were his? He'd never met a woman quite like her. She was independent, responsible, mature, fun, giving— and very vulnerable when it came to her past.

  That was tricky ground with Sarah. He had to walk there with her, to know it and understand it, but he had to let her pick the path. Until then, he had to figure out what was wrong with the telephone.

  He saw the line, torn from the connecting box. A large limb was across the line, pinning it firmly to the ground. He was turning to go back into the house when he saw the big blue-and-white truck bumping through the trees. The telephone crewman got out and waved.

  "Bad storm passed through. We've got line damage reported."

  "The lines are down." Daniel spoke the obvious. "You're out and about pretty early." How was it that the crew truck had showed up so conveniently? He was instantly suspicious.

  "That wind whipped through here like a buzz saw. Never seen this kind of damage before." The repairman pushed his hat up on his forehead. "We'll be busy for the next three days. Folks around here like their privacy, and they like their telephones to work."

  "I'll bet." Daniel watched the man as he started to unpack ladders and gear. "You must have been working all night."

  "Nope. Just came on, but this is a neighborhood with a lot of pull. Folks report phones are out, and we send a truck." He inspected the wire. "I'll ask you to check the phone in a minute," he said.

  Daniel watched the repairman. It did seem strange, but the tree limb was on the line, there had been a storm, and it was a wealthy neighborhood. He started back around the house when he heard Familiar's deep meow. He couldn't place the cat immediately, but as he listened to his cry, he moved around the house to where the woods grew dense and thick. He saw the cat's tail moving among some brush and shrubs.

  "Meow!" Familiar demanded.

  Daniel's training reminded him to look around before he stepped into the shadows of the trees. The telephone man was at the side of the house, but his attention was focused on his work. Daniel disappeared into the woods.

  "What is it?" He felt like a fool talking to the cat. Now if it had been a dog…

  He felt the prick of sharp claws in his shins. "Meow!" Familiar demanded as he moved away.

  "Okay," Daniel said with a sigh. So he was sleeping with a chef and following a cat through the woods. He'd been kidnapped, knocked unconscious and robbed, and he had lost his job. So his life was taking some unexpected turns.

  "Meow!" Familiar stood beside a dark object that was nearly hidden by the shadows of the woods and leaves.

  "What?" Daniel used a stick to dislodge the item from the leaves. It was a hat. A dark hat. He lifted it on a stick so that he could examine it better.

  "Well, well. It looks like the hat our intruder was wearing." And it did, but Daniel could not make a positive identification. Still holding it on the stick, he started back toward the house with Familiar in the lead. At the edge of the woods, the cat stopped. Daniel paused, wondering what was on Familiar's mind.

  The telephone man was climbing into his truck, and Sarah was on the porch, waving at him as he pulled away. The work had gone quickly.

  Once the repair truck was gone, Familiar ran across the yard, calling to Sarah.

  "Well, it's about time for breakfast, you guys," she said, leaning on the porch railing as she watched Daniel and Familiar come out of the woods. Her eyes went to the object Daniel carried, and a frown touched her face. "What is that?"

  "Familiar found it. A hat."

  Sarah started down the steps, her heart sinking with each step. That darn cat had managed to dig up evidence, even without the photo album that she'd hidden in the top shelf on the closet.

  "Is something wrong, Sarah?"

  There was no point trying to lie to protect Jean-Claude. "My cousin, or my adopted cousin, Jean-Claude, used to wear a boating hat sort of like that." She stopped at the foot of the stairs as Daniel came toward her. A flash of gold on the cap caught her attention. "It was very much like that hat," she said grimly.

  "Jean-Claude?" Daniel nodded. "So you thought it was him all along?"

  "He's very spoiled. Or at least, he was." She shrugged. "He has some kind of idea that he's interested in me. It's foolish, certainly, but…" She felt the stain of embarrassment heating her cheeks.

  Daniel understood it all. Jean-Claude had come to pay court to Sarah and discovered that she had other male company. He'd waited, on the porch, and then sprayed Daniel with pepper. It was a mean and petty thing to do.

  "Jean-Claude was always spoiled, and when he didn't have things exactly his way, he acted like a brat. Even things he really didn't want, he didn't let other children touch." She felt the heat in her cheeks.

  "You're not responsible for his actions,
Sarah," Daniel reminded her.

  "He told me that he was changed, mature, different. But I have no proof of that. None." She pointed to the hat. "If this is his idea of the right way to behave— "

  "We're both jumping to conclusions." Daniel gave her that out.

  "Could the hat have been in the woods for some time?"

  "No. It was covered in leaves, but there is no decay of the material. I'd say the hat has been stored someplace, but not on the ground. Someplace like a cabinet."

  "The boat house. Maybe we should go take a look."

  Daniel carefully placed the hat on the edge of the driveway. He had no access to labs or anything else now, but it might prove to be a valuable clue at some later date. He would preserve it, just in case. For now, though, he had Sarah to consider.

  He put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing gently and drawing her toward him so that she soon rested in his embrace. "I can see clearly why a man would desire you and risk any behavior to have you." He kissed her forehead.

  Sarah's laugh was shaky, but there. "I know, I'm a good cook. Never underestimate that. My mother always told me that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach."

  "That, and…"

  "I have a charming personality?" There was real humor in her voice again.

  "Yes, there's that. And I hear you make your own clothes."

  They laughed together, and Sarah took his hand. "Breakfast is ready, and I'm starving." Daniel had not overreacted. He wasn't pointing the finger at Jean-Claude or anyone else.

  "Meow!" Familiar said, bounding up the stairs ahead of them both.

  "That settles that," Daniel said, eyeing the cat with renewed respect. "Familiar says it's time to eat, and I think we should all pay more attention to that cat. Let's eat, put on some warm clothes and go take a look at that boat house."

  After bacon and cheddar cheese scrambled eggs, Familiar curled up on the sofa beside Sarah as she placed the call to Biloxi. Tactfully, Daniel had decided to inspect the boat house while she talked with her mother.

  When the line proved busy, Sarah put the phone down and stroked Familiar's shimmering hide. Something wasn't right. Mora had call-waiting. There shouldn't be a busy signal. She dialed the number again. This time the phone rang ten times before she replaced the receiver. Worry pulled her brows together as she sat in front of the renewed fire. One hand stroked the cat while the other tugged at a strand of her straight blond hair. She finally picked up the receiver and dialed again.

  Still no answer.

  "She has a machine," she told the cat.

  Of course, the machine could be off, or her mother could be on the other line, so caught up in conversation that she didn't want to answer the incoming call. That was a possibility. But not a strong one. Mora was the kind of person who was afraid to let a phone ring for fear it was someone needing her. In that respect, Sarah was just like her.

  She dialed her uncle's home, remembering on the sixth ring that he was in New York, and if anyone answered it would be Jean-Claude. That prompted her to replace the receiver with a quick slam. Of all the people on earth, Jean-Claude was the last one she wanted to talk to.

  Familiar stood and stretched, then walked to the door.

  "Good idea," she said, grabbing her coat. "Let's give Daniel a hand down at the dock."

  The wind bit into her face as she stepped away from the protection of the house. She'd failed to realize how much colder it was on the water than in the city.

  With Familiar at her side, she found Daniel in the boat house. He was looking but not touching.

  "Be careful," he advised her. "Someone jimmied the lock off." There was disappointment in his words.

  Sarah knew without asking that Jean-Claude had just receded as a viable candidate for the attack. Anyone could have broken into the boat house and taken Jean-Claude's hat. Anyone. Instead of disappointment, she felt a keen relief. More than anything she didn't want to involve her uncle in anything ugly. There had been enough of that in the past.

  "That doesn't mean it wasn't Jean-Claude," Daniel said as he watched the play of emotions across her face.

  "I know." She smiled at him. "It just means that maybe it wasn't. Or that probably it wasn't. It could have been a kid, someone who's been hanging out in the boat house for weeks."

  Daniel nodded. "The dust has been disturbed. Someone has been coming and going here." He nodded toward the candles and beer cans in one corner. "From what you've told me about your uncle and his friends, they don't seem the type to come down here in the dark, drink beer and burn candles."

  "Kids," Sarah agreed. "And the pepper, that seems like a kid thing to do. Like on a dare." Maybe her suspicions about Jean-Claude were wrong.

  Daniel nodded in agreement. "But I tell you, if I could get my hands on whoever that was, I'd give them a little taste of red pepper in the eyes. It isn't a pleasant experience."

  Sarah walked across the room and into his arms. The way he grasped her, his eagerness showing in the feel of his hands along her back and the quickening of his breath, made her bold. "I could show you a cure for all of that. Or at least take your mind right off it."

  "Yes, ma'am," he said, mimicking her Southern accent. "I'll bet you could." His lips found and held hers. In that instant, passion flamed between them. Sarah forgot everything except the taste of his kiss, the sensation of liquid heat that coursed through her at his touch.

  "Daniel," she whispered his name against his ear as she kissed the lobe and moved along his neck. She wanted to give him the pleasure that she felt, to show him that she needed his touch, and needed to feel his response to hers. As her lips touched the base of his neck, she felt him grow still. Instinctively she pulled away, wondering at the sudden change of his mood.

  "Excuse me." The male voice came from outside the boat house.

  Sarah heard the slightly accented voice and turned to find Jean-Claude standing in the doorway.

  "Jean-Claude." Her voice was breathless, and she cursed the flush that she could feel crawling over her body.

  "My timing is not good," he said, his composure perfect. "I had thought to be of assistance. I can see I'm not needed here. I am sorry for the interruption." He turned on his heel and started back to the house and to the dark sedan that was parked near the stairs.

  Sarah threw one confused look at Daniel, who stood, his own composure still askew, but with a dark anger beginning to burn in his eyes.

  "Jean-Claude!" Sarah called after him. "Wait a minute." When he failed to stop, she called again, this time angrily. "Wait a minute, damn it. Why are you— ?"

  He turned back. "I could not get an answer on the telephone. The company said the phones were down. I was worried about you." His look shifted to Daniel. "I can see that my concerns were…misplaced, chérie. There is nothing that I can do for you." A haunted look touched his face. "Perhaps there was nothing I could have done. We are all victims of our past, Sarah. You have made a terrible mistake."

  "Jean-Claude." Sarah reached out and touched his arm. She'd never imagined she would see Jean-Claude so upset. She heard Daniel step close behind her and stop. She hesitated, remembering Jean-Claude's warning about Daniel. "This is Daniel Dubonet. He was worried about me, too."

  Jean-Claude's smile was sarcastic as he turned to the FBI agent. "Perhaps I should have expressed my concerns last night. Perhaps I would be the man in the boat house today. At least I can protect her."

  Sarah felt as if he'd slapped her. She stepped backward, aware too late of the angry flush that touched Daniel's cheeks. This was the Jean-Claude she remembered. Had she imagined that sadness only a moment ago?

  "I don't think timing was your problem," Daniel said softly. "If Sarah had wanted your concern, or your comfort, she would have let you know." There was a growl in his voice.

  "I'm not so certain she would feel safe with you, Mr. Dubonet, if she knew all the facts about you." Jean-Claude was a study in anger. His dark eyes burned and he cast Sarah a searching glance. "Has h
e told you that he was fired? That he is considered a renegade, a possible thief and a murderer?"

  There was a moment of silence when Sarah thought Daniel was going to throw the first punch. She held out both hands, but the men ignored her. "This isn't necessary. Please— "

  "Sarah knows about me. She knows a lot more than you'll ever know." Daniel bit the words as he spoke. "It wasn't me who she thought was here last night, acting like a spoiled brat."

  Sarah wanted to punch them both. They were acting like gladiators, fighting over the spoils.

  "Both of you," she spoke with cold authority. "Out! Now!"

  At last she had their attention. "I'm not some bone that two dogs can fight over. And that's exactly the way you're behaving. Now get out." She stalked past them and went up to the house. Without looking back, she climbed the stairs and went inside, slamming the door for good measure.

  In a moment she heard the roar of the car Jean-Claude had driven to the house. Then silence. Looking around the room, she realized that Daniel couldn't leave. His keys were on the counter beside the cold coffeepot. Well, he could walk.

  "Men!" She said the word with venom as she looked out the window.

  "Meow." Familiar sat on the rail watching her.

  She opened the window. "Be warned, Familiar. If you're up to any male tricks, this isn't a safe place to be."

  "Meow," he answered as he gracefully jumped inside.

  * * *

  JEEZ, I don't blame Dolly a bit, but she isn't using her head. There's something about that Jean-Claude fellow that doesn't add up. I'm not certain what it is, but it's definitely there. And Daniel wasn't much better, I'm sorry to say. Old Bureau Boy could win the Cro-Magnon award. I mean, really. If he'd come across with that caveman act any more intensely, he would have knocked Sarah over the head and dragged her home with him.

  And the real pain is that so far we've discovered nothing to help solve this mystery. So what if Jean-Claude peppered Daniel in a jealous fit over Sarah? That doesn't resolve anything. It only adds another twist to the puzzle. Why? Why is he suddenly so concerned about Sarah? Why does he care so much now? The answer could prove to be interesting— and very dangerous.